


• Talk to Me •

by ShesGoneRogue



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 22:39:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17353934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShesGoneRogue/pseuds/ShesGoneRogue
Summary: Timmy has a lot of feelings the night before the Golden Globes.OH, and there's a harness...





	• Talk to Me •

**Author's Note:**

> This was never meant to happen, but my monkey brain wouldn't leave me alone about it so here you go.  
> Quick, rough, and unbeta'd.

The box is delivered by courier at the last possible moment the night before the event. He signs for it and stammers a quick 'thank you', barely getting the words out before he's closing the door and rushing over to lay it on the bed. With a silent prayer that there won't be any need for alterations tomorrow morning, he lifts the lid and carefully lays the tissue paper to the side.

Black and purple sequins twinkle in stark contast to the dullness of their paper nest. Timmy's fingers tremble a little as he reaches down to touch the fabric. He lifts the harness up and measures the weight of it.

It's such a small thing, but he knows it's going to make a huge impact. His smile stretches as he turns it toward the lamp light.

It's beautiful. The detailing impeccable. Gleaming satin ribbons...delicate stitching.

A little shiver of excitement runs up his spine as he imagines the weight of it across his shoulders.

He turns toward the open closet door and eyes the trousers and shirt waiting there under protective plastic to be reunited with this last detail...the detail that is going to make this outfit into something that people will be talking about for days. 

He likes to give the fans what they want....likes wearing the gifts and seeing the feedback on social media. They've asked for more florals - lace even, but he's taking it one step further.

He grins and decides to try it on, but carefully lays it aside to shoot a quick text first.

T: Dude! It's here! <Five excited emojis>

The return speech bubbles appear immediately.

A: Well, let's see it! Don't keep me waiting.

He smooths it out and snaps a quick pick, sends it.

A: Yeah - um, you know that's not what I meant, right? <frustrated emoji>

T: But I don't wanna mess it up! What if I rip it?

A: You— SERIOUSLY?! Tim. Put the damn thing on and Show Me!

T: Okay, okay - just hold on a minute.

He tosses his phone on the bed and picks up the harness gingerly. It takes some creative maneuvering, but he manages to get it laid across his shoulders and steps in front of the mirror to check before snapping another pic.

No. Definitely not. His stretched and stained t-shirt is all bunched up beneath it, completely throwing off the lines and making it look like some ridiculous prop from 'Cabaret'.

He grumbles and carefully lifts it off again, eyes the shirt hanging in the closet. He doesn't want to wrinkle it. Fuck it. He rips his shirt off and picks up the harness again. His phone dings.

"Fucking impatient." he mutters to himself, sliding it over his head again.

It's slinky...cool to the touch. He shivers a little as the ribbons tickle his side.

He takes another look in the mirror and stops short. He's never been one to preen, but damn if he doesn't look _good_. Not exactly runway ready, but...the way the black sequins sparkle against the pale skin of his chest? Yeah. He tilts his head and turns to the side. The baggy sweats aren't exactly flattering with it.

He hooks his thumbs into the elastic, but hesitates for a second, rolling his eyes at himself for this moment of vanity.

Timmy kicks them off and to the side but doesn't immediately look at himself again.

His phone beeps again right as he looks up and his breath catches. Armie would commit murder to see him like this. His cock twitches in interest at the thought and his nipples immediately draw up.

Without even realizing it, he's stepped closer to the mirror and lifted one hand to his reflection.

He thinks of Armie running his fingers across the edge grazing his right nipple and shudders.

"Fuck..."

His cock swells heavily in response to the image in his head and before he even knows what he's doing he snatches up his phone and snaps a close-up pic of the sparkly fabric kissing the edge of his taut nipple.

He flips back to the message thread and hits send without even reading Armie's impatient demands.

Ten seconds later, he gets an incoming FaceTime call.

"Jesus, Tim..."

"I'm sorry. I didn't think. Are you with someone?"

"No, I wasn't, thank God. Good damn thing, too, because I can't fucking breathe right now..."

Tim blushes, but he can't turn the screen away to hide it because of the mirror....and the fact that he's completely naked except for the harness.

"Show me the rest of it."

He's been absently palming himself, growing harder with every second as he looks into the mirror and keeps the camera focused on his face for Armie.

"Tim..."

He pans down just a little, shows a shoulder, the center of his chest.

"Fuck...show me in the mirror."

"I...I can't." He looks back into the camera.

"Tim. You know I can see you right? I've been watching your face and I know you're looking at yourself. I also know you're turned on. You can't hide from me, baby...now, show me."

Tim flushes bright pink and covers himself as best he can with one hand before turning the camera around to catch his full length reflection.

" _Goddamn_...are those ribbons?" Armie's face on the screen reflected back at him is the very picture of torment. He literally raises a hand to his mouth and bites the side of his index finger. "Tim."

Timmy turns the phone back around but doesn't say anything. He's flushed and short of breath.

"God...I wish I could be there with you right now."

"You have no idea how much I want that." he answers back, trying hard not to sound pouty.

Armie rubs at his face in frustration, "Yeah. Pretty sure I do."

Timmy gives him a dramatic sigh-eyeroll combo and walks over to the bed to sit. "I—" he clears his throat weakly. "I need to get this off."

"What?! No! Why?"

"Armie, I don't want to ruin it. I have to give it back. It's not mine to keep." he knows he sounds whiney and petulant and couldn't give half-a-fuck about that at the moment. He was already nervous, and now he's horny as hell and Armie is 2,500 miles away.

"Call me right back?"

"Okay."

He tosses his phone down again and takes extra care lifting the harness over his head with shaky hands. If he wasn't already a mess before, he's truly fucked now. He tries hard not to let the frustrations of the moment in...having Armie here would change so much. Not just the immediate problem, but his whole outlook about tomorrow night.

He doesn't bother getting dressed again after he puts the box away, just crawls under the covers and holds the phone to his chest, thinking too much - as ususal. Calling him might make this tight feeling in his chest lessen, but it also might make it worse. He's tempted to just shoot him a quick text with some lame excuse about needing sleep, but Armie doesn't give him that chance.

Timmy looks at the screen. Voice call.

"Hey."

"Hey, sorry...I was about to call. No FaceTime?"

"Can't right now, but I needed to talk to you. You okay? You seemed...I dunno...strained when you hung up?"

"Haha! You mean horny?"

"Well, yeah - that too, but I know you, Tim. There's more than horny thoughts going through your head right now. What's up?"

Tim breathes deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand. His shuddering exhale is the only answer he can give for more than half a minute.

"Baby?" Armie's voice is low, close to the receiver. Tim can tell he's not alone now.

"It's nothing. I'm good. Really. You don't have to talk me down or anything." Goddamnit...how does he always _know_?

"Just a second."

Tim can hear his palm cover the phone, some muffled arguing, then the sound of a door.

"Okay. I'm here. Talk to me."

"Armie, seriously. Go back to your family. You're supposed to be on vacation, not on the phone with me at—" he glances at the clock on the bedside table, "What time is it there?"

"It's only 10. We're about to go out for a late dinner."

"Then _go_."

"I don't _want_ to go. I want to talk to you, and I'm not hanging up until you tell me what's going on in that busy head of yours, now spill."

Tim gives him a frustrated sigh and kicks at the covers as he rudely shoves down his only slightly softened erection with one hand. Seriously. How can he still be hard when he's feeling this messed up?

"There's just a lot going on."

"M-hm. Yeah. And?"

He tries to hold back, but it explodes out of him in a rush. "And you're not here! _Okay_? And I have to go out there tomorrow and smile and pose and...and I don't.fucking.want.to. I'm not going to win anyway, but mom is all excited, and there's this outfit that you won't even get to see me in, and there's gonna be questions - I just know it. _Armie_ , _how_ _am_ _I_ _supposed_ _to_ _do_ _this_?" He can hear himself spinning out as the truth pours from him and wants to scream, but it comes out as a growl.

The line is dead silent for several seconds.

"Okay. First things first. Take a breath."

Timmy does, deep and slow.

"You with me?"

"Yeah. M'sorry."

"Don't apologize _._ I know you're stressed, and no one can blame you for getting a little worked up...least of all me. I'm sorry I can't be there. I tried to work it, but it - I just couldn't."

"I know. It's not your fault."

It's Armie's turn to sigh.

"You know I really wanted to be there, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you can send me pictures of the outfit. In fact, you _better_. I want multiple angles. No filters."

Tim smiles despite his foul mood. "I will."

"As far as winning goes...you know what they say."

"It's an honor just to be nominated." Tim sing-songs.

Armie laughs,"Yeah. That. God these things are such bullshit. I hate the build up, the posturing— you know what? I'm not even going to get into all that. Just take your mom, show her a good time. Rub shoulders and make connections. You're gonna knock them on their asses in that outfit, baby. The rest is all just background noise. Okay?"

"I guess so...but what if they ask me—"

"You deflect. Cut them off if you have to. Say something like, 'I don't want to comment on my personal life. Doesn't my mom look awesome?' It's no one's business but your own."

"Well...it's kinda _your_ business..."

Armie is quiet for a few beats. "You're right. It's _our_ business, but it's not theirs. Got it?" He says firmly.

"Yes, _sir_." Tim quips. He can't resist.

Armie groans comically and gives him and exasperated laugh. "You can't do that to me right now."

"Do what?"

"You _know_ what."

Tim grins to himself. Yeah...he knows exactly what he did. "Okay. Sorry."

"Stop apologizing or I'm going to bend you over my knee next time I see you." 

"Ooh, Promise?" So much for his flagging hard-on, it's back with a vengeance at the mere threat of a spanking.

"Fuck- Tim." He suddenly sounds just as needy as Tim feels.

Tim reaches under the sheet and palms himself, gives a good squeeze. "Do you need to go?"

Armie sighs, "...yeah, but I don't want to. Are you still naked?"

"M-hm...naked and hard as a rock."

"Jesus, Tim."

"Just talk to me for a minute? It won't take long."

"A minute?" Armie barks a laugh.

"Hey, I'm young and horny. You in know how this works."

"God help me, I do...are you touching yourself?"

"M-hm."

"Put me on speaker phone next to your ear. You're gonna need both hands."

Tim shivers, "Ah, fuck, really?"

"Do it. No questions. And grab the lube."

"Don't have any."

"What?!"

"I'll improvise."

Tim can hear him laughing as he switches his phone to speaker and lays it on the pillow next to his ear. 

"I can't believe you're traveling without lube."

"Like I said, you're not here. Cold showers don't require lube." Timmy fires back.

"Fair enough, but hot showers with lots of conditioner are more fun."

Timmy snorts a laugh and spits into his palm. "Been showering a lot in the Caymans?"

"Baby, you have no idea...now shut up and listen to me. I want you to lick your finger and circle that sweet little nipple you teased me with earlier. Nice and slow...imagine me kissing it...sucking at it..." He trails off.

"Mm...feels good."

"When I see you next time, we're going to see how close you get just from that...but for now, I want you to reach down between your legs, take that pretty little cock in your hand and give it a long, slow stroke."

Timmy blushes and arches up, his hand already giving more than slow strokes. "Way ahead of you." he answers a little breathlessly.

"Naughty. Who's running this show?"

"Sorry-" he catches himself apologizing again and can't help but smile. "But I'm really not. Just your voice... _fuck_ , Armie — talk to me. I'm so hard...goddamn."

"Don't stop, baby....keep stroking. I want you to reach around and finger yourself. Can you do that for me?" Armie whispers close to his ear.

"Mm- yeah...yeah..." Timmy moves his finger from his nipple back to his mouth and rewets it before drawing his legs up and reaching back behind his balls. He has to adjust his grip and jerk himself sideways, but the new angle is somehow even more delightful. He moans loud for Armie to hear as he begins teasing himself.

"You sound so sexy. I wish I could see you...watch you finger yourself for me."

"Armie...." He draws his name in a whimper. "Want you. God, I want you so bad." He pushes in and cries out softly.

"You know what to do, baby....god, I'm so fucking hard listening to you play with yourself. Tell me how it feels."

"It's not enough." he whimpers.

"Greedy. It's never enough is it? God, it's been so long..."

Timmy moans and curls his finger, seeking...he turns his mouth to the phone and gives a ragged little whine when he finds the right spot.

"Fuck yes...I know that sound. Don't stop now."

Timmy can hear muffled banging in the background.

"Just a fucking minute!" Armie's hand does little to mute his caustic response. "Sorry."

He strokes harder and faster, knowing he's gonna lose him any minute now. "Armie?"

"What is, baby? What do you need?" he purrs.

Tim shudders at the tone of his voice, his hand a blur now, finger nudging just a little harder. "Will you say it? Please?" He can hear Armie's breath waver a little before he responds.

"Those are _my_ fingers in your ass right now...my hand on your cock. Feel me...listen to my voice and let go..."

"I want you so bad..."

"I'm right there with you, now be a _good_ _boy_ and come for me."

Tim bucks up into his hand and cries out softly, his cock spitting thin ribbons across his belly and chest as he works his finger just right.

"That's it...I hear you, baby. Such a good boy for me. So perfect. Can't wait to get you on my cock again...kiss that sweet mouth..."

Timmy writhes and arches through his orgasm with Armie's continuous flow of praises melding into a soothing conglomeraation of sweet nonsense in his ears. When he finally stills and draws a shaky breath, he looks down his mess and laughs.

"What's funny?" Armie sounds a bit dazed.

"You made a mess."

"Fuck. I want to see it, but I have to go - they're calling for my blood. Send me a picture?"

"You sure?"

"You kidding?"

"Alright, alright, I will. And Armie...?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you...I mean, not just for this, you know?"

Armie laughs a little. "Any time. I love you, Tim."

"I love you too." He hears another series of bangs over the line and wonders if Armie even heard him, but the line is already dead.

Timmy picks up his phone and tilts his head to get the angle just right -- rivulets of pearly white dripping down the two fingers he uses to pull his bottom lip down just a teeny bit. His eyes are soft and heavy-lidded, curls corkscrewing in every direction. Not bad. He snaps and sends.

Armie's keysmash dings back before he can even grab the sheet to clean up. He flops back and laughs as he sends him a kiss emoji, feeling lighter than he has in weeks.

 

 

 

 


End file.
